The Werewolf’s Mystic Lore

chapter 3

When she finally cried herself out, I was gazing at the clouds adrift across the heavens—soft and white as fresh snow, gliding through a sky so vividly blue that the city rarely allowed such beauty to be seen anymore.

“Hey, throw your clothes over here!” the girl commanded after wiping away her tears. She paused for a moment before speaking, her tone still trembling with lingering indignation.

I snapped back to my senses. “Ah… right away.”

“Wah—! Stop! Don’t come any closer. Stay right there!”

I froze instantly, startled. The little girl looked as though she might burst into tears again at any second. Hurriedly, I tossed the clothes toward her and, without waiting for further instruction, turned my back to the corner of the rooftop.

“Hey… it’s fine now, but… the trousers…”

Only then did I remember—her skirt had long since been torn apart, and my teeth had certainly contributed to the damage.

The problem was that I possessed only one pair of trousers. I could walk around bare-chested without issue, but if I wandered the streets wearing nothing except underwear, someone would undoubtedly mistake me for a lunatic and drag me off to a psychiatric ward.

“Wait here. I’ll go downstairs and find you another pair…” My tiny bachelor apartment was nearby; surely I could dig up something reasonably clean.

“No! You’re not allowed to leave! Throw me the pair you’re holding!”

Her voice rang out with uncompromising firmness. I hesitated, then reluctantly flung the trousers over my shoulder without turning around.

“All right…”

Only after a long silence did her voice drift softly from behind me. “...I’m leaving now.”

Don’t go.

Panic surged through me, and I spun around instinctively. My oversized clothes hung loosely upon her frame, awkward yet strangely charming. She must have taken great care arranging them. Her hair had been tied back into a ponytail once more; her cheeks were still flushed, her brows faint and delicate, while an unreadable emotion shimmered quietly within her eyes.

“But… what about me? My clothes…” I muttered awkwardly, covering myself with both hands.

The expression on her face clearly wavered between laughter and restraint. “Wait for me. I’ll go find you something to wear.”

“All right… thank you. Please hurry if you can…”

Her face immediately stiffened again. As she brushed past me, I caught that faint fragrance once more—like the scent of wild azaleas blooming across the prairie in early May during my childhood. By the time I turned around, she had already vanished down the staircase.

And so, I waited.

I waited until nightfall descended once more.

By the time I realized she probably was not coming back, a cool crescent moon had already risen into the sky. A strange melancholy settled over me. Perhaps I would never see her again.

I shook my head and laughed bitterly. Surely not.

I slipped the strip of cloth into my pocket—the fragment torn from her skirt by my own bite.

After enduring my first transformation and an entire day without food, my body felt unbearably weak. Reaching the rooftop entrance, I decided to use the cover of darkness to sneak back to my apartment.

Moonlight pooled gently at the stairwell entrance.

The moment I looked up, I saw it—an outfit hanging quietly there.

She had returned…?

Then I gave a helpless smile. It was a dress. Beside it was a note. Under the moonlight, I could just make out the words:

“Hey, I brought your clothes. Hurry up and put them on.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

After an agonizing internal struggle, I finally squeezed myself into the absurdly tight dress.

After all, returning home was still preferable to being hauled off to a mental institution. Besides, at night, surely no one would notice.

At last, I reached the entrance to my apartment building. After surviving the lecherous stares inside the elevator, the waiters’ excessive attentiveness, the suffocatingly tight skirt, and a collar that nearly strangled the breath from my lungs, I had finally made it home.

I cautiously peered around. That troublesome girl, Xin’er, had better not be here. If she saw me dressed like this, I would never be able to show my face again. No—never again as a werewolf.

No one was around. Safe enough.

I hurried upstairs and darted toward my door.

Then I froze in utter despair.

My keys…

They were still in the pocket of the trousers I had given that girl.

Damn it.

At that moment, the sound of light, skipping footsteps echoed up the stairwell—it was Xin’er. Only she could climb such steep stairs with the rhythm of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. She lived upstairs, which meant she absolutely had to pass by here. My luck was truly cursed.

Feigning indifference, I casually began walking upward. Below me, I heard her stop outside my door and knock—a rhythm unmistakably matching the melody of Starry Sky. Apparently, she was in a foul mood tonight.

“Why isn’t he back yet…?” she muttered softly.

Then her footsteps ascended again, now carrying the languid cadence of an andante movement.

I immediately quickened my pace. Yet the instant she heard my footsteps, she rushed after me in several swift bounds. Werewolf hearing was naturally acute. Fortunately, she still had two years before her first transformation, so her sense of smell should not yet be particularly sharp.

“Ah—”

Upon seeing only the back of a “woman,” she stopped abruptly, disappointment flickering across her face. I halted as well, not daring to turn around. Behind me, little Xin’er spoke with surprising politeness:

“Miss, I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.”

I nearly laughed aloud. This troublesome girl had spent more than ten years bickering with me and had never apologized even once.

Afraid my voice might betray me, I merely nodded and continued upstairs. I listened as Xin’er reached her own door, unlocked it, and slammed it shut with unnecessary force.

Who had offended her this time?

But the real problem remained—where was I supposed to sleep tonight? I was already absent from work for an entire day. Would that pig of a boss fire me tomorrow?

Xin’er definitely had my spare key. Every time I lost mine, I went to her for help. But this time…

I descended the stairs again and stared at the warm glow spilling from her window, suddenly overwhelmed with envy.

Just then, a voice drifted from behind me:

“Hey… looking for your key?”